“Attend the lady’s ankle and arm first,” he said.
Avelina opened her mouth to protest, but he squeezed her arm, as though to warn her. And why had he called her a “lady” when he knew now that she was naught but a servant? She kept quiet as Susanna examined her ankle.
Susanna set the bowl on the bench. She placed Avelina’s foot in the bowl, pouring the hot water from the bucket over it. The water felt good even as it burned her half-frozen skin. But as the hot water touched her open wounds, the pain of the puncture wounds caught her full attention and she drew in a breath through her clenched teeth.
Lord Thornbeck’s big hands gently squeezed her arms, as though to comfort her, at least taking her mind off the pain for a moment.
“These puncture wounds are deep,” Susanna said. “We shall hope the teeth did not do permanent damage. I’ll not sew them shut, to allow any bad humors out. But best to keep it loosely covered, except for a few hours a day to let the fresh air in.”
Frau Schwitzer wrapped the clean cloths around her ankle while Susanna pulled back the sleeve on Avelina’s arm. “Scratches, that is all. Clean and wrap them and they should heal.”
She came back to Lord Thornbeck’s arm and cleaned it in the same way she had cleaned Avelina’s ankle. He didn’t even flinch as she rubbed off the crusty dried blood from the wounds.
“Should heal without a problem, but if either of you have any red streaks or swelling or pus, fetch me and I’ll bring my septic salve.”
Susanna finished up his shoulder while Frau Schwitzer brought back some woolen stockings for Avelina’s feet, which still burned like they’d been stung by bees. Avelina pulled the thigh-high stockings on, then Frau Schwitzer brought her a warming pan.
“She should rest her feet on this,” Susanna said, to no one in particular. “I don’t want her feet getting cold again for at least a week. But as soon as she stops shaking, she should be able to warm up on her own. Just give her something hot to drink.”
And with those words, Susanna packed up her things and left.
Frau Schwitzer was tidying up. What would happen now? Lord Thornbeck still had his arms around her and his chest pressed against her back.
She closed her eyes, since he was behind her and couldn’t see her anyway, and seared this last kindness into her memory, this feeling of warmth and safety.
For a moment in time she had been a lady, someone who was wanted . . . by the Margrave of Thornbeck, a man who was easy to talk to, even when she was trying not to talk to him, a man who would risk his life to rescue a woman who had made a fool of him and who was only a servant. He would have married her. She was wanted.
But now . . . what would he do with her? She had no reason to stay at Thornbeck Castle, and he had no reason to care.
21
REINHART SHOULD NOT be holding this maiden. He should have let someone else hold her and impart the necessary body heat to stop her shaking and get her warm again. She was a servant, and it was improper for him to touch her at all, improper to risk his life to save her from wolves, to spill his own blood for her, and to hold her in his arms and wish with all his heart that . . . what?
He was thinking like a fool.
The king would never approve his marriage to this servant girl. The king wanted him to marry someone who could solidify relations and strengthen German alliances. His whole purpose was to find someone like that, but someone with whom he could have a life.
But she had turned out to be deceitful and, for a margrave, not eligible for marriage. She and the Earl of Plimmwald had made a fool of him.
He removed his arms from around her and stood, then stepped away from her. “Frau Schwitzer, you may go.”
She nodded and left the room.
He faced away from Avelina, crossing his arms in front of him. “Why did you leave like that?” He had to know. “What were you doing going out in the snow before anyone was awake?”
“I . . . I thought you would want me to go.” She spoke quietly. “I knew you would hate me for deceiving you, and Irma talked me into it when I was still half-asleep. She said if we left immediately, Friedrich could go with us and protect us. But just before she kicked me off the horse and galloped away, she said she had made an agreement with Fronicka. Irma could go and live in Geitbart with her new lover, Friedrich, if she left me there in the snow. She must have known the wolves were nearby.”
“Everyone knew it. Did you not hear them howling?” He turned to face her.
She shrugged. “I wasn’t thinking about wolves.”